


Performance Indicators

by manic_intent



Series: Reeve's Work/Life Balance [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Remake
Genre: M/M, Spoilers for FF7:R, That Post FF7:R fic where Reeve tries to adjust to his new boss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23770396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: “You don’t sound proud, Reeve Tuesti.” The stroking thumb dug into Reeve’s hand in harder circles. “Your work is a crowning achievement for ShinRa. That’s why you were put in charge of Urban Development.”Had Rufus guessed…? Reeve tried not to squirm. He had to stay calm—the same calm he generally retained around the previous President, around Scarlet, Heidegger and the others. “Yes, sir.”“So polite. I like that.”
Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Reeve Tuesti
Series: Reeve's Work/Life Balance [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714213
Comments: 21
Kudos: 184





	Performance Indicators

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to resist writing this pairing because I didn’t really want to read up on the characters and spoiler myself, but after a week the ficbunny just wanted out, so here we are. Yeah, I’ve never played FF7 — I never owned a PS1 due to life circumstances, and I’m a bit of a graphics snob so I don’t think I’ll be up to playing the game even now. As such, I pretty much played FF7Remake with only very vague context (from Crisis Core, Kingdom Hearts, and very vague memories of Advent Children), but I hear FF7R is meant to be an AU anyway :3 Anything goes, yes?
> 
>  **tldr** : pls don’t discuss FF7 general plot developments haha. Chances are, I’m not aware of them, though I did read Rufus' and Reeve's wiki pages.

“Sir,” Reeve said as Rufus leaned in yet again to take a closer look at a diagram on the printouts, “I, ah, I really should talk to you about that.” 

Even as Reeve immediately wished that he hadn’t spoken, Rufus leaned his cheek on a palm and smiled. It wasn’t a friendly smile—there was nothing friendly about the new President of ShinRa. Rufus had that in common with his late father. Worse, even. Reeve had watched the footage of the fight that Rufus had gotten into on the roof with that rogue SOLDIER in the Avalanche cell. Rufus wasn’t just ruthless; he was dangerous in a way that the late President hadn’t been. 

Even with Reeve’s resources, he still wasn’t entirely sure what the real story was behind Rufus’ abrupt disappearance from society and sudden reappearance right as the late President died in suspicious circumstances. Attempts to investigate had hit a roadblock. Reeve’s every instinct told him to keep his distance, which was difficult when the handsome, pale-haired young man sitting beside him appeared to have little concept of personal space. 

“About what?” Rufus prompted. Reeve cleared his throat, averting his eyes. He’d been caught drifting off again. Staring at Rufus’ perfect jawline. Gritting his teeth, Reeve took in a slow breath and tried to concentrate. He was at least half a decade older than Rufus, and beautiful people were hardly uncommon in the halls of ShinRa. None of them had ever unsettled him like this. 

“Ah,” Reeve muttered. His cheeks grew hot. “About personal space?” They sat together on the couch in Rufus’ vast office, Reeve’s proposal spread out over the coffee table before them. Reeve had been startled when Rufus had waved him to the couch instead of making him present his report before the President’s desk; then he’d grown puzzled as Rufus sat down beside him instead of facing him in an armchair. 

Rufus chuckled. Even his laugh was handsome, a roughened sound that nearly lulled Reeve into not flinching as Rufus patted Reeve’s knee with one gloved hand. “What about it?” 

The bastard knew exactly what he was doing. Reeve reached out to brush the hand off his knee and stiffened as Rufus grabbed his wrist, rubbing his thumb playfully against Reeve’s palm. “You’re a talented engineer,” Rufus said. 

“Thank you?” Reeve tried to pull away and winced as Rufus tightened his grip in warning. “Sir!” 

“I hear you designed the Mako Reactors.” 

“I was one of the designers, yes.” 

“You don’t sound proud, Reeve Tuesti.” The stroking thumb dug into Reeve’s hand in harder circles. “Your work is a crowning achievement for ShinRa. That’s why you were put in charge of Urban Development.” 

Had Rufus guessed…? Reeve tried not to squirm. He had to stay calm—the same calm he generally retained around the previous President, around Scarlet, Heidegger and the others. “Yes, sir.” 

“So polite. I like that.” 

“Your father didn’t.” 

Rufus pressed his lips into a thin line. Reeve regretted his sharp rejoinder—Rufus had, after all, just lost his father only a day or so ago. About to apologise, Reeve stiffened as Rufus let out a harsh laugh. “No. I presume he didn’t. He likely didn’t have any interest in this proposal of yours either, did he? Despite the damage that’s been done. An entire sector of the city, gone. So many people displaced or injured.” 

“Exactly,” Reeve said, sifting through the papers for the rebuild projections. “We’ll have to build emergency camps to shelter the displaced and create supply lines to make sure they don’t go hungry. Temporary sanitation facilities to ensure that—” He blinked as Rufus pressed a finger to his lips.

“I’ve read your reports. You sent a digital copy to my father for his attention, and while he didn’t read it, I’ve been catching up on all his comms,” Rufus said. 

Reeve jerked back from Rufus’ touch. “I apologise for my assumptions, but. Sir, if you’d told me, we could have skipped the presentation. I was under the impression that…” He trailed off under Rufus’ amused, predatory stare. 

“I find your voice pleasant,” Rufus said, leaning back against the couch and crossing his leather shoes over the printouts on the table. “However, like my late father before me, I’m not convinced of the need to reallocate any of ShinRa’s resources at this time. Given our goals and the extensive damage done to to the ShinRa building by Avalanche.” 

“I see.” Reeve rose to his feet, clenching his fists. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.” 

“Don’t get angry. Sit.” 

Reeve didn’t move. “Why? We have nothing left to discuss.” 

Rufus smirked. “So the cute little puppy has a spine. Or perhaps you don’t fear me the way you used to fear my father?”

Cute little…? “I wasn’t afraid of your father.” 

“You should have been. The man was a sociopath. ‘Like father like son’, hm?” Rufus conjured a coin out of nowhere, deftly rolling it between his fingers. He flicked it into the air and swiped it up mid-fall. “I think my father underestimated you: he tends to do that with people he doesn’t respect. I don’t intend to make the same mistake. _Sit_.” 

Rufus didn’t raise his voice, but the command crackled through the air. Reeve very nearly sat down right on the floor, but some thin measure of self-respect got him to sag onto the edge of the couch instead. He flinched as the overlarge dog-creature growled from the vicinity of Rufus’ desk, only to fall silent as Rufus clicked his tongue. The silver coin rolled down to Rufus’ little finger and back up, then disappeared down the sleeve of his elaborate white coat. 

“I know Scarlet likes to force people to do her bidding,” Rufus said.

“She does,” Reeve said, when Rufus waited, as though expecting an answer. 

“I don’t. The consequences can be messy. Recriminations, betrayals and such. I prefer to trade.” The silver coin reappeared on Rufus’ other hand, rolling up and down his fingers. “I said that I’m not _convinced_ about the necessity of your plan. Which means, yes, I’m open to being persuaded.” 

“Persuaded?” Reeve asked, his voice hitching in his shock. “I… I’m sorry. What are you saying?” 

Rufus stared steadily at Reeve for a long moment, then he threw back his head and laughed. “You watch too many serials.” He tossed the coin in the air and caught it as he got to his feet. “Improve your cost-benefit analysis, and I want a more exacting set of KPIs. You’re suggesting a large-scale overhaul _and_ reconstruction of the sector, which would strain our budget even in a year where eco-terrorists haven’t destroyed two of our reactors. A year where my insane father didn’t drop an entire damned plate on the slums in the odd hope that it would kill a handful of people.” Rufus rolled his eyes as he settled down in front of his desk. “Try to make your proposal work for me, and I’ll meet you halfway. How’s that?” 

“Oh! Yes. Of course. Thank you, sir.” Reeve jerked to his feet and started to gather up the scattered papers on the table. 

“Leave them. Someone will clear it up,” Rufus said, picking up a sheaf of paperwork on his desk. Reeve bowed and retreated, letting out an unsteady breath of relief once he was in the lift.

#

Rufus turned out to be more reasonable than Reeve thought he would be. He asked difficult questions and wasn’t as generous as Reeve liked, but funding flowed into Reeve’s department for the Stage 1 rebuild within the week with few caveats. Overall, a better outcome than what Reeve could’ve hoped for from Rufus’ father. As to the flirting—that grew easier and easier to take. Rufus always backed off the moment Reeve was close to reaching the limit of his patience.

If only his limit wasn’t stretching further and further with each private meeting. Reeve took to washing his face with cold water whenever he emerged from Rufus’ office, wrung out and hyper-aware of their proximity. He’d had a few affairs before. Fewer, once he ascended to the head of Urban Development. His life was his work, and what was left over—well. No one at ShinRa needed to know. Now—

“Reeve. Hey.” Rufus snapped his fingers in front of Reeve’s face. “You’re drifting again. Did you get enough sleep last night?” 

Reeve flinched, blinking owlishly. “I’m so sorry, sir.”

“Take time off, if you need it. You’ve been working non-stop.” 

“There’s a lot to do,” Reeve said. He’d been burning the candle at both ends, both in his day job and as he did what little he good to help a particular outlaw group of friends in the world beyond Midgar. 

“You might collapse at any moment.” Rufus leaned in from where they sat on the couch, his lips brushing Reeve’s ear. “Then what would I do without you?”

Reeve would later blame his lack of sleep, stress, and weeks of unresolved tension from whatever Rufus’ game was for what he did next. He turned, kissing Rufus clumsily on the mouth. 

Rufus went very still. 

Realisation and embarrassment crested over Reeve in a cold and belated wave—he jerked away, reddening. “I’m sorry—”

“Finally,” Rufus growled, and pushed Reeve down on the couch. As Reeve yelped and tried to scramble free, Rufus straddled him and clenched his fingers into the knot of Reeve’s tie, pinning him and taking his mouth. Roughly, at first, plundering him as Reeve coughed and struggled, clutching fistfuls of Rufus’ coat. Gently, as Reeve whined and relaxed, panting and arching as Rufus settled between his thighs and began to grind against his ass.

“Sir!” Reeve moaned as Rufus teasingly cupped the growing tent in his pants. He jerked into Rufus’ grasp with a strangled keening sound that he could barely recognise, yelping as Rufus yanked on his tie to haul him into another kiss. 

The furious hunger of Rufus’ kisses eased into playful confidence as Reeve stopped squirming and pressed his palms tentatively to Rufus’ cheeks, dizzy and off-centre and desperate. When was the last time someone had touched Reeve as though he was worthy of being devoured? When was the last time he’d been consumed with something more than work and the consequences of his work? It burned him to let go, and it freed him at the same time. 

Rufus grumbled as he struggled with their belts, his elegant fingers jerky against the zippers of their pants. He laughed against Reeve’s throat as Reeve tried to help him and only got in the way, a laugh that was closer to warmth than cruelty, if not close enough. From the restless way Rufus touched Reeve, bit him, it looked as though Reeve wasn’t the only one here starved for intimacy. For a distraction.

“Rufus,” Reeve gasped as Rufus tossed Reeve’s belt off the couch. He cried out as Rufus bit him hard on his throat, high enough that a collar couldn’t hide it. “Sir!”

“Better,” Rufus breathed, chuckling as he kissed the mark. Reeve shuddered under him, flushing as his cock twitched against Rufus’ thigh. 

To his mortification, Rufus noticed. “You liked that?” he asked, grazing his teeth against the trimmed beard along Reeve’s jaw. His hand tightened over Reeve’s arousal just shy of pain, easing up as Reeve scrabbled at Rufus’ wrist with a choked sound of protest. Rufus twisted his gloved fingers in Reeve’s hair and pulled him back to bare his throat, mouthing kisses over the stinging bite. “I know you do,” he whispered, squeezing down again, harder this time. Reeve’s cry of pain shook into a whine as Rufus lapped a stripe up his throat. “You want to be useful,” Rufus whispered, nuzzling lower, burning his words against Reeve’s pulse. “To know your _place_.” 

Rufus kissed Reeve as he squeezed down next, thrusting his tongue into Reeve’s mouth and swallowing his pain, his lust, the urgent groan of surrender that Reeve choked out as he bucked into Rufus’ grip and soiled his clothes. Rufus hummed, brushing mocking little kisses over Reeve’s reddened cheeks as Reeve sank against the couch and tried to catch his breath. 

Rufus sat back, flushed but already setting his clothes into order, his heavy coat covering any hint of arousal—if any. The elegant curl of his mouth drew sharp with cruelty as he got to his feet and patted Reeve on the cheek. “I look forward to your next update,” Rufus said. “Don’t keep me waiting.” 

“I… yes.” Reeve gathered up his folder and fled, only remembering to set his clothes to rights in the lift. He rested his forehead against the glass and grimaced at the tacky feeling on his skin. “Damn that man,” Reeve whispered. His lips burned.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Note:** I wrote this fic following the ages set out on the wiki, where Rufus is in his mid 20s and Reeve is in his mid to late 30s. I see they've updated the ages and put Rufus as 30 in FF7R, which kinda throws a wrench into this 'verse, so. The ages in this 'verse follow the OG...   
> \--  
> twitter: @manic_intent  
> my writing, prompt policy: manic-intent.tumblr.com


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